Classic Poem

On a Visit to a Friend in the Country.

I Found a calm retreat
From Hurry, Noise, and Strife;
How peaceful, and how sweet!
Here are the Joys of life.

And have I peace in Christ, my Lord?
That sweetens every good,
And comforts me in Trouble too,
When rightly understood.

I here beheld the rustic Swains,
Among the new mown Grass;
And Female's that assist them there,
The Road where Trav'llers pass.

Like Showers on the new mown Grass,
Thy Spirit, Lord, descend;
To guide me in the Road of Life,
My Foot steps, pray attend.

'Tis here that Colly brings us Milk,
The Family to supply;
And here those winged Birds I see,
That do with freedom fly.

Oh! may I read God's sacred Word,
And drink that Milk sincere;
I wish to fly with Faith and Love
To God my Saviour dear.

I here the ripening Cherry view,
And pluck it from the Tree;
They sure have a delic'ous taste,
May-Dukes, methinks, they be.

And I read of a Tree divine,
Which Twelve choice Fruits does yield;
Likewise the Leaves have Sov'reign balm,
They do the Nations heal.

My Soul, and hast thou found this Cure,
When thou wast sick of sin?
It's owing to that Sov'reign Balm,
The Health that thou art in.

I from the Garden pluck'd the Rose,
My Bosom was it's place,
While I behold these Maiden's fair,
With Roses in each Face.

Sickness or Death may quickly come,
And take their Bloom away;
May they the Rose of Sharon love!
It's Beauties ne'er decay.

I here the Hen and Chickens view'd,
The Fish in River play;
I saw the Angler cast his bait,
To take their Lives away.

Industrous like the Hen I'd be,
Yet on God cast my care;
Oh! give me Eyes to see the Hook,
When Satan would ensnare!

'Tis here the Millwright does prepare,
The Mill the Corn to grind;
And here the Miller boults his Meal
And does white Flour find.

But whither than the finest Flour
Is Jesus' Righteousness;
Oh! may I eat that Bread divine,
And wear that heavenly dress!

And now adieu, my dearest Friends,
I can no longer stay;
For Time, that changes all things here
Now calls me hence away.